The next week, to poor Mr. Tompkins, he was called a rich man, was one of sad perplexity and anxious deliberation upon what it was best for him to do.  He had great difficulty in raising sufficient money to meet his payments, independent of the ten thousand dollars demanded by Wolford.  Where that sum was to come from he could not tell.  He had made several applications for a loan to take the place of the one now upon his property, and had even caused advertisements to be inserted in the newspapers, addressed to “capitalists,” but without effect.

During all this time, Mrs. Tompkins was as disagreeable as it was possible for her to be.  When her husband returned home, in the evening, sick at heart with the toil and anxiety of the day, he was met by no pleasant words or cheerful smiles.  A sober face presided at his table, where the words were few and coldly spoken.

The period for which Wolford’s loan had been made was within two days of its expiration, when, half beside himself with perplexity, Mr. Tompkins advertised his property for sale.  There were enough who understood its real value precisely, and were ready to come forward and offer to purchase.  As soon as the miser and usurer saw the course events were taking, he very kindly informed Mr. Tompkins that he had just received, unexpectedly, a large sum of money, and should not want the ten thousand dollars due him.

“You are too late,” replied Mr. Tompkins, when he communicated this intelligence.

“Why so?” asked Wolford.

“I have made up my mind to sell.”

“I don’t want my money.”

“Oh, very well, I can keep it.”

“On what security.”

“My note of hand.”

The miser shrugged his shoulders.

“Don’t you like that security?”

“I have no objection to your warehouse property.”

“But that I shall sell.”

Wolford retired in a dissatisfied mood.  He had overreached himself.

In the course of a week the sale was made, and for cash.  The property brought twenty-five thousand dollars.  After the mortgage was released, and his borrowed money account balanced, Mr. Tompkins had just twelve thousand dollars to his credit in bank, with a month’s heavy payments before him.

On this basis, and with this position of affairs to sustain him, Mr. Tompkins, feeling in a desperate mood, determined that he would build himself an elegant residence.  The plan was furnished by an architect, and the work commenced forthwith.  Mrs. Tompkins was all her husband could wish, from the day she was apprized of his decision in regard to a matter that had so long been near her heart.  He said nothing of the sacrifice he had made, nor intimated any thing about what might be the ultimate consequence, although every sober thought of the future awoke a fear.  The house, when finished, cost twenty-three thousand dollars; and when furnished twenty-eight thousand.